


Wilted Cherry Blossom

by mayeevee



Category: Naruto, 進撃の巨人 | Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Haruno Sakura, Childhood friends Levi Ackerman and Haruno Sakura, F/F, F/M, Haruno Sakura Needs a Hug, Haruno Sakura has Amnesia, Haruno Sakura has mokuton, Haruno Sakura in Attack on Titan World, Haruno Sakura is depressed, Haruno Sakura is relearning her abilities, Haruno Sakura needs a break, Haruno Sakura stuck between two worlds, Levi Ackerman Needs a Hug, Lost Memories, M/M, Mokuton User Haruno Sakura, Naruto AU, Not OP Haruno Sakura, Reincarnated Haruno Sakura, Slightly Overprotective Levi Ackerman, Slightly suicidal Haruno Sakura, Starts in 'No regrets' from AoT, Uchiha Itachi survives, Uchiha Massacre, author regrets everything, just wanted her to have a ace up her sleeve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29330412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayeevee/pseuds/mayeevee
Summary: She was born again in a world unlike her own, with her chakra the only connection to the world she once knew, Sakura will live on and survive.Battling alongside the one person that she will give her life for, Sakura now learns that there is a place she once belonged to, and where she is once more needed.Where is her home truly at? Can she give up everything she once had for the new present, or is the past too precious to leave behind?
Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Armin Arlert, Haruno Sakura & Hatake Kakashi, Haruno Sakura & Petra Ral, Haruno Sakura & Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura & Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura & Yamato | Tenzou, Levi Ackerman & Furlan Church & Isabel Magnolia, Levi Ackerman/Haruno Sakura, Sakura Haruno & Eren Yeager, Sakura Haruno & Erwin Smith, Sakura Haruno & Farlan Church, Sakura Haruno & Isabel Magnolia, Sakura Haruno & Mikasa Ackerman, Sakura Haruno & Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 12
Kudos: 78





	Wilted Cherry Blossom

**Author's Note:**

> Yes yes another fan fiction, I'm just trying to put all the fanfictions I have on reserve out so I can get more inspiration to continue writing them. This one is a AoT and Naruto crossover that I had been thinking of adding for some time now. It might or might not connect with my other story Blooming, just wait and see lol. Though I will say now that Blooming will not change based on this story (maybe) but this story may change because of Blooming (again maybe lol). 
> 
> I have the basic timetable of events listed, but I do have some room for creativity. I hope you like it!!!

It was dark. All around her all she could really see was the pleasant nothingness that seemed to encase her. It was nice, a sort of freedom that she had never experienced since she was a child. She felt numb to the world, a sort of detachment to what she once was. Her being was encased in a protective obliviousness, without regard on where she was or what she was doing.

She felt nothing, thought nothing, was nothing. It was _ecstatic_.

The darkness embraced her, it was warm and pure and full of comfort and safety and _rest_. Away from the pain and the suffering. The fighting and the blood and the _feelings_.

So, when she found herself being forcefully moved, the world around her constricting and constraining around her. Felt the sweet darkness around her moving her small form away from its embrace, well it would be an understatement to say that she was more than displeased.

Suddenly, she could feel coldness from atop her head as something seemed to grab her. Then came the light. No. No she didn’t want that light. She wanted to stay in the deep darkness, away from the deceitful light that made fake promises only to die out in no time at all.

The now baby let out wails of sorrow and anger. Take her back, bring back the warmth and the obliviousness that had been taken from her. She didn’t want this; she didn’t want the knowing. She didn’t want the thoughts, the flashbacks, the feeling of blood in her hands, the overbearing despair, and the _coldness._ It was cold, oh so very cold here in the light.

“There, there.” Came a sudden voice, and the baby felt herself being rocked gently in the arms of someone. She tried opening her eyes, crying out again as her eyesight blurred before slowly becoming accustomed from the slight light that a lit candle provided to the dark and musty room.

Blinking, she was met with kind blue eyes as the woman before her smiled. The woman seemed quite young, maybe in her early twenties, with large sapphire eyes and a gentle smile. Her brown hair framed her face, some of her long fringes brushing the baby’s forehead slightly. Wrinkling her nose, the baby tried to move away from the strange woman, only to find that she was unable to move. Trying to move her neck in order to better observe her surroundings, she found herself incapacitated by the arms of woman holding her.

The brown-haired woman holding her seemed to have said something, but the baby could not make sense of anything she was saying. It was as if the words coming out of her mouth was a jumbled mess of made up sounds and phrases. She was ever so confused at what she was experiencing right now. She did not understand where she was, who these people were, what they were saying. And the matter that most perplexed her, why she was so damn _small._

Feeling the woman move once more, she tried not to whimper as she felt herself being switched to the arms of someone else. Curious, if not slightly frightened, the baby looked into the eyes of the woman before her, seeing curious yet gentle green orbs staring into her own similar eyes. Pale blonde hair framed the beautiful face of the woman holding her as she looked down into her eyes, seeming to be looking for something.

She then said something, and again the baby could not make sense of the mess that came out of the woman’s mouth, yet she could not help but feel soothed by the calm and gentle voice as the woman started rocking her like the other woman had done.

As she lay there, in the arms of the blonde haired somebody who had eyes almost the same shade as her own, the baby felt cold dread seize her. She didn’t understand the situation she was in, but she knew that she was a baby right now. Though her mind seemed leagues older than what she believed it should be, though she couldn’t fully remember _why._

The more she thought, the more bits of information came to her. Her name was…Sakura. She was a shinobi, and she knew that she had to protect…something. Everything was a jumbled mess, some things coming in the forefront of her mind while others seemed to evade her behind a wall of fog. The more she concentrated, the more she remembered. Yet, a small part of her screamed out that it wasn’t enough, that she was meant to know _more_. That she had to remember… _them._

Wishing nothing more than to go back to the blessed nothingnessinstead of having to deal with these incessant thoughts, Sakura couldn’t help herself from snuggling into the warmth of her ‘mother’. She knew instinctively what she was, if not for a part of her that tried to deny the very thought of someone else taking the title. She could hear the physically older woman’s heart, something that was eerily familiar for some reason. Yet she pushed the thought away, instead her eyes closed as she felt a yawn escape her small mouth

For now, even if just a moment, she will treasure what interactions she could salvage from another human in what seemed like years.

* * *

Sakura lay there in her makeshift crib, which really was nothing more than a cardboard box filled with slightly scratchy blankets and a ragged and battered pillow for her head. She had been hidden away in a room next to the one her mother had been in and guessing from the loud groans and moans coming from said room, Sakura could see why the woman had decided to hide her away rather than keep her on display.

She wondered what the woman would do if Sakura had been like any other baby and suddenly decided to cry and scream and whine for attention and away from the dark and stuffy room, she had been subjected to stay in. The thought of purposefully doing so had crossed her mind a few times, yet Sakura never truly wished to pain or cause any trouble for the woman who is currently caring her and providing her with food and shelter.

The blonde could have simply abandoned her on the side of a street or something, Sakura could remember hearing about plenty of such cases done by those in... this sort of business. Yet she had kept Sakura, and for that the Pinkett held a small thankfulness. While she had held no desire to be born again in this horrid and unforgiving world, especially with these mumbled memories that told her only the bare horridness that she had lived thought without any of the context that would have made it all worth it. Though something told her an easy death was not the answer.

That, and many of the memories she held still needed to be answered because her head was currently a combination of names and faces and events that had missing scenes in between.

All she could remember pain and happiness and Blonde sunshine hair with a wide grin as he smiled at her, bringing forth a sense of comfort and belonging and love.

She remembers grey with its reliability, perverted quirks and fatherly moments that caused a warmth to envelope her chest.

She could picture dark hair with darker eyes that bled red filling her with pain and despair, love that killed her inside every time she thought about it.

Then she saw the blood, the pain and the feelings, the bright light of green that enveloped too small hands as she tried and tried to fix what was broken. To break what was indestructible. To kill and to save.

She could remember light blonde with honey brown and warmth and hope as brown with green grew and grew until _life_ breathed anew.

Then it all ended, her mind drew a blank as she tried hard to remember only to cause harsh pains in her head and a sob to well up in her chest as horrid white seemed to seep the strength away from her.

Then the sounds would stop, soon a door was closed and hers was opened bringing in the dim light of a candle lit on the other room.

The woman with blonde hair shades lighter than what she was used to and eyes lighter than the dark green she would see as a child. The voice in her head would scream painfully _not my mother you how dare you how dare you how dare you._

Then the woman, the second face she had seen since her rebirth but the one she had always now been in the presence of, took her small body into far-too-thin hands as she cradled her head against her naked collarbone.

Sakura closed her eyes, she did nothing more than stay in the woman’s arms as drops of tears fell against her small body. She did nothing but snuggle closer into the woman’s embrace causing a startled but happy sob to leave pale lips as the blonde woman buried her face deep into her toddler body.

And Sakura saw that she wasn’t the only one dealing with her own demons. She saw that she wasn’t the only one suffering in the world.

Maybe being someone else’s comfort wasn’t so bad after all.

Giving out a small apology to the mother she once had, Sakura let out a small sigh as she let herself fall asleep in her new mother’s embrace.

* * *

Athanasia, her new name was Athanasia. After a few months in this new world, Sakura…no Athanasia was able to understand some of the new language spoken in the world, if only her mother talking to her in hushed whispers as if any loud noises would make her demons return.

She would cradle Athanasia, holding her close as she prattled on and on about how she loved her, how they would make it out of here, how there is a need for _hope_.

Athanasia, still nothing but a babe but stronger than she was as a newborn, would coo and smile and babble and place a far too small palm against the skin of her mother’s gaunt cheek.

A part of her said that hope was _bad bad bad_ and that it brought forth illusions that would soon be shattered, leaving you in the cold damp world where nothing would ever be realized.

Yet, Athanasia still kissed her mother sloppily, her wide baby eyes shining with love as the woman laughed and happily continued to talk about how the outside world was like, how they would one day leave the underground.

Athanasia could not understand how someone looking so weak and broken, could hold such strength and hope.

* * *

Athanasia stared at the darkness, trying to block out the sound of what was happening in the room next door as she closed her eyes and meditated.

Some of ‘Sakura’s’ mamories had come back to her, many of which were of the Genin years and just before the blood and the pain happened. She could still not place names onto faces, but she could still see them and understand them and remember their cause. Though she could not as clearly remember green light and blonde hair with honey colored eyes that sent familial warmth. She could also not remember black hair and yellow eyes that send terror inside of her. She could not fully remember brown hair and wide black eyes with the feeling of accomplishment.

She needed to try harder. She meditated and tried and fought through the headache and the pain.

She needed to remember the red.

* * *

Atahanasia meant immortal. She felt the deep need to cry and laugh all the same at the meaning of her name. Immortal, oh how the gods seem to laugh at her. But was she not in a way, having been reborn in such a way, like the immortal phoenix that rose from its ashes?

Though instead of rising from her ashes, Athanasia seemingly crawled out from blood and bodies and ashes and death and destruction without meanings to, well rather than crawled it was more warranted to say she was _pulled_ for the ashes as she had no desire to still be here.

Yet, as she looked at her mother, with her warm smile and her earnest hugs and her wish to provide what she could to the only daughter she had, Athanasia couldn’t deny that she didn’t begrudge leaving the clump of ashes and coming here all that much. Not if she was able to at least provide this woman with a companionship that took away from the darkness that was their life.

Sometimes she would see herself as a burden, but looking at the smiling woman, her eyes shining as she knitted Athanasia’s hair, cooing over the color and calling her _beautiful_ , well the thoughts didn’t linger.

“You must live, Athanasia.” Her mother would tell in the darkness of the room, when she thought Athanasia was already asleep. “Live, and find your place in this world, your rightful place in the light, not in this darkness.”

Athanasia bit her teeth. I will take you there too mother, she would think, I will take us both to the light and leave this darkness behind us.

Wait for me, she all but pleaded.

It took her a while, but she knew for a fact that this was not where she was once from. It took a special memory of Chakra and sensory. A bit of questioning to her mother convinced her of the fact that no she was not anywhere near where she was once from. She was met with startled and worried gazes from the physically older woman when Athanasia brought up chakra and shinobi, both of which she had no idea of.

It didn’t help that this place’s language was one she had never heard of, nowhere had ever heard of it. She was told by her mother, who had tried to teach the young girl as much as she could even with her own lack of true education, that they spoke ‘German’ and that it was the language most spoken, with the rare exception of a different language here and there.

One venture outside when she had reached the age of four had treated Athanasia with the knowledge that they were underground, something she had been quite perplexed by but found no answers for. She, still being far too young to stay outside else someone might find her hair color exotic enough to be worth a hefty price, had grown accustomed to being stuffed inside the far too dark and cramped closet next to the room that she lived in with her mother, consisting of a bed, used mostly for her mother’s work, a cot inside the closet in which they both slept on after her mother finished work, and a small kitchen which really only consisted of a small furnace and a few plates and pans in ratty cabinets.

Hearing the door finally close, signaling that the ‘guest’ had finally left, Athanasia waited patiently, letting out her chakra in order to feel her mother’s own small barely-there chakra as she put on her clothes, consisting of a plain white dress, before walking up to the closet and opening the door, letting Athanasia out.

“Now why don’t I make us some dinner.” In response, Athanasia smiled widely, nodding her head as she played the innocent daughter, letting her mother cuddle and kiss the top of her pink head.

She said nothing as the tired woman slightly stumbled towards the ‘kitchen area’, getting out some water and a few pieces of more than likely spoiled vegetables. She quickly made a soup with some stale bread.

They ate in silence, Athanaisa quickly finishing her meal before walking back to the closet and taking out the cot and laying it down for both of them to sleep in.

She let her mother hug her tightly in her sleep, the far too skinny arms enveloping her own small and fragile body as she closed her eyes. In the darkness of her own mind she could see red and anger and hear the voices of those desperate to be heard. She wished to remember yet her mind would not let her. Instead she was faced with disembodied voices and faces she could not fully see.

The only thing keeping her centered where the slightly trembling arms around her. And deep inside Athanasia knew, they were the only things keeping each other sane.

* * *

She had started to become accustomed to the life she lived. She even had hopes, dreams of soon remembering all. Of being older and stronger and taking her new mother and herself away from here and to the surface, where they could live happily and where Athanasia could repay the woman for all the suffering that she put herself through in order to support them both.

She had started to hope. And that was where she went wrong.

She should have learned, should have found out from the slowly forming memories that she was not _meant_ to hope, was not mean to be happy. Her fate was not one of peace and fulfillment. It was one filled with blood and tears and heartbreak.

It seems fate wanted to reteach her that lesson once more.

So, the day that one of the usual customers had gotten angry, far more than usual. Drunk with more than just alcohol, mind far too gone or just not caring enough, sticky hands grabbing hold of a sharp blade in his pocket as he glared at the woman in front of him. She was resistant, but those hard-green eyes widened as she gasped out, red leaving her chest in great amounts as he then proceeded to rip the front of her dress open down to her womanhood. Most likely wanting to take what he believed was his one more time before she passed, or even after she passed if it was to his liking.

Athanasia could not say she was really surprised by these events. She should have known, should have guessed that fate had not had enough of her, that, if there were gods out there, they enjoyed her suffering the most.

Memories of a great fire, of glazed green eyes and bloody dark blonde hair. Of final goodbyes and screaming at the sky in anger because _why, why her, why did this always have to happen to her_.

She looked now at the lighter blonde hair, stained red. A red she had refamiliarized herself in. The men before her with mad eyes that she felt a recognition to.

Anger bit inside of her as she saw what he had done to the woman who had given everything to the world until she could no longer give any more.

With a burst of blue energy Athanaswia was in front of the man, taking the blade as her own she felt disconnected from her body as she thrust the blade into his stomach, blue enveloping her hand as she found strength she never knew she had, bringing the blade up she opened the man’s stomach all the way to his chest cavity, organs and blood spilling everywhere, yet she found that she did not care. She merely watched, green eyes cold and unfeeling as the man before her gasped and chocked and spluttered out blood before falling, eyes quickly fading as his body fluids created a stream in the street.

* * *

As nine-year-old Athanasia sat there, looking at her crimson blood covered hands with a thoughtful expression on her face, her hair matted in a mixture of brown, red and pink, a young boy no older than 14 could not help himself from staring at her in shock.

He had been merely walking, heading to his current lodging, when he had heard a loud scream close to the path that he usually took home. The thought of taking another route had crossed his mind, but this was the most peaceful route that took him directly home and he would rather not have to pass too much trouble on the way to his place of rest.

And so, he continued walking on, though one hand was no closer to his pocket, the tip of one finger lightly brushing the switchblade there. Imagine his surprise when he was met with the sight of a young girl, looking to be about 6 years old, seeming to be looking at nothing with a bloodied knife in her hold, crimson completely surrounding her.

He then looked at the dead man lying on the concrete floor a few feet in front of an open wooden door. The man had an agonized expression on his face, his lips forever pulled in a scream. The young boy could tell the man had died in pure agony; the thought made a slight shiver brush his spine. The man had dirty blonde hair, his military uniform soaked in blood and more than a little ragged.

Turning his attention back to the door, he saw that it leads to what looked like a small room. A woman was lying dead against the doorframe, her eyes closed and red soaking her front. She was in a state of undress, her bare bosom covered completely in crimson still seeping out of the deep stab wound in her throat right above her collarbone. He quickly made sense of the scene, and a deep sense of Deja-vu hit him as he stared back at the emancipated form of the young girl. He hesitated, thinking about his next move as the young girl continued to stare at her gore covered arms in absentmindedly.

Sighing, he knew what needed to be done. Taking a step closer towards the girl, she was snapped out of her thoughts by his movement, scooting backwards as he sharp green eyes stared at him with a sort of determination and fear. 

Her eyes narrowed with caution as her small hands tightened their hold on her blade. She held a sort of maturity that mirror his own, her eyes did not hold the naivety commonly seen in children her age, instead they stared at him in a calculative and cold gaze.

The girl tensed as he came closer, but the young boy put his hands up in a show of goodwill. Narrowing her eyes, the battered young girl relaxed ever so slightly as the boy continued to walk closer to her until he was a little more than a foot away. “Name’s Levi, what about you?” He asked, looking at the girl with an unreadable expression.

She continued to stare at him, eyes narrowing as she studied his features. He was quite short, yet his voice made him seem older than what he looked. Both his hair and eyes were black.

Inwardly coming to a conclusion, she slowly stood up as she looked at the taller boy straight in the eyes. “Sakura, my name is Sakura.”

She will not play by the rules of this world anymore.


End file.
